Before Me
by Bramblerose4
Summary: A newly single Harry is a highly tempting opportunity for Ron. Sequel to “Fire Whiskey and Smoke.” Please read it first! RonXHarry eventually. HarryXGinny, rated T for alcohol use and smoking,adult language,adult situations.
1. Chapter 1

This is a direct sequel to "Fire Whiskey and Smoke." It takes place two weeks after the events in that story. Please read it first! And as always; eNJOY!

Before Me.

* * *

"I love you Ron." Harry said as I lead him out of the pub.

"I love you too, mate," I replied, grunting as I shifted the weight of a very drunk Harry.

"I know you do Ronnie. I wish I loved you the way you want me to. My life would be so much easier if I did." Harry continued.

"Maybe," I replied, pulling Harry closed to me before his ran into a street bin. I was tempted to use magic to levitate his drunk-ass home, but we were in a Muggle neighborhood, so magic was out. I was able to carry Harry on my back half way home, but saw the flaw in that plan when he drooled down my neck.

The second half of the journey home had Harry cradled in my arms; his head nestled against my shoulder. The brunette made a contented noise in the back of his throat as he settled in his new position.

I had no qualms using magic to enter our shared flat. With a turning gesture, the door unlocked and I walked in. Shifting a dozing Harry so we'd fit through the door I carefully maneuvered around the flat toward his bedroom. With another wand-less command aimed at his door, I laid him on his bed and took off his shoes, setting them on their usual place at the side of his night stand. "Goodnight Harry," I said, leaning down to kiss the thin lightening bolt scar on the middle of his forehead. Harry turned his head up at the movement and our lips meet.

I immediately pulled away and stared into the unfocused green eyes my best mate. "Harry…"

"You taste funny," Harry giggled before he closed his eyes and passed out.

With a sigh, I reached down to remove his glasses. Gently, I folded them and placed them on the night stand before leaving the room.

"Harry," I breathed, closing his door and headed back out into the darkened hallway. Sliding to swat against the wall, I reached into my jacket pocket, I pulled out a box of cigarettes and a lighter. I leaned my head against the wall while I smoked in front of Harry's door. Stress always made me smoke, and tonight I was more stressed than usual. I thought of the boy slumbering in the room in front of me and took a deep drag of the cigarette. It's been two weeks since I had last seen Harry fall asleep without it being alcohol induced. We'd gone out pub hopping every night since that evening we spent drinking in our living room. If he kept this up he'll soon be in St. Mungo's for alcohol poisoning.

"I'm tried of the fighting." He confided to me earlier in the evening.

"I'm sure she is too, Harry. You should make up with her."

"How?" he asked into his bottle.

"Go over to the house tomorrow and talk to her. I am sure that she misses you as much as you miss her." I tried to ignore the sick feeling in my gut as I coaxed my best mate to make up with my little sister. I don't like seeing Harry like this, but I can't say that I wasn't unhappy about all the free time Harry had to spend with me lately.

"Do you really think that will work?"

I shrugged. "I don't see why that wouldn't be a good start."

"Yeah, okay. I'll talk to her tomorrow."

I finished my cigarette and cleaned up the ashes with a wave of my wand. I stood up and checked on Harry before going into my room. I rubbed my eyes with the heel of my palm and sighed.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

* * *

Finite.

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	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to everyone who read part 1. I hope that you will enjoy part 2 as well! And as always; eNJOY!

Before Me.

* * *

I was replacing the paper in Pigwidgeon's cage, affectionately called "Pig's Pen," when I heard the flat door click open and a dejected Harry walked in.

"Harry?" I asked, looking thru the bars of the birdcage.

"It's over," he said quietly, pausing in the hallway.

"What's over?"

"Ginny and I, we're done."

"What happened?" I felt like I had just been punched in the gut by the Whomping Willow.

He entered the living room and collapsed on the couch with his head hung down. He groaned, a sad sound, and took off his glasses. He studied them for a moment, before tossing them on the coffee table disdainfully. "Harry?" I questioned. He didn't reply. Was he about to cry? If he was, I had no idea what I was going to do. How could I comfort him when part of me was secretly glad that they had spilt, perhaps for good? I am such a bad friend, but I am an even worse brother. I flinched when Harry suddenly banged his fist on the table. I left Pig's Pen and went to him. "Harry, talk to me," I instructed. He shook his head. Pushing aside his glasses, I sat on the table so I could face him. His eyes were screwed shut; his face twisted into a painful grimace. "Harry," I prompted again, lightly placing my hands on his shoulders. "Harry, it's okay."

He shook his head again and groaned, cradling his head in his hands. "I don't feel good."

"Are you going to be sick?" I asked. He shook his head, no. I frowned, my brows coming together as I realized what was wrong. "Hold on," I ordered while I got up. Moving into the kitchen I got him a glass of cold water. Harry was such an idiot; it was hard not to be blunt with him. "Well, I'm not surprised she lashed out at you. Going over to talk to her with a killer hangover isn't the best way to win her over."

"No, I guess not." He chuckled bitterly as he took the offered water.

"You want to tell me what happened now?" I probed, crossing my arms.

"Not really," he replied honestly, drinking from the glass. I waited for him to take his fill before asking him again. "She wants me to move in." he answered.

"I'm sorry?"

"She asked me to move in."

"And you said 'no'?"

"Of course I told her no. You think I was going to just grab my stuff and leave you behind?"

"So, you were fighting over me?"

"Not exactly, but in a way, yeah I guess we where. I mean I'm happy here, with you. We have our ways, our routine. I can do things in front of you that I would never dream of doing in front of her. Why would I give that up?"

For love, I thought savagely, but somehow I wasn't able to say the words out loud. I thought about my sister. I loved my sister and wanted her to be happy. If that meant I have to be unhappy, then so be it. "We've been living together since our school days." I said, staring at the empty glass in his hands.

"I know, right?" Harry agreed, misunderstanding me.

Hating the words that were about to come out of my mouth, I forced myself to swallow and continue. "No, Harry, I meant we've been living together for years and maybe it's time for a change."

Harry's face fell and he looked up at me, looking sicklier than he had a moment before. He green eyes turned a pale shade and his skin flushed. He looked as though I'd just torn his heart out, perhaps I had. I am so sorry Harry. "What are you saying?"

I breathed deeply to steel my resolve and spoke low, but clearly. "I'm saying that if you don't move out, I will."

* * *

Finite.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Before Me.

* * *

Mesmerized, I could only watch as a myriad of emotion played over Harry's face. The sadness of losing Ginny gave way to bewilderment at my words, which transformed to fury as they sank in. "You're…" he started, Harry got to his feet, shaking in anger. He was so upset he could barely speak, his words coming out as he thought them; unfiltered and repetitious. "You're not serious, are you? You can't be serious, you can't be. You don't honestly think that will fix things. You can't fix this Ron…can't fix anything."

"Harry…" I tried to interrupt him, but each time he overpowered me, his voice rising. He looked as through he was thinking about throwing his glass at me in his frustration at my stupidity. After a tense moment, he set it down on the table, I guess he didn't want to pick up all the glass after he chucked at my head. Instead, he chose to stare owlishly at me.

I didn't respond at first, but as he continued to look at me I felt compelled to say, "Of course not Harry. Don't be absurd. Sorry, it was a bad joke."

The fight taken out of him, Harry relaxed and smiled weakly. He fell back onto the couch, as though the weight of my words were too heavy from him to remain standing. I wanted to go to him and embrace him; to rest my cheek against his lightly as my mother did when I needed comforting, but I was smart enough to know that would be a mistake. I guess I ought to be relieved that Harry had so violently rejected my plan, but instead my temper was starting to flare as I thought about how Harry had just manipulated me. Never mind that I had reacted impulsively when I spoke before, or that I didn't really like the idea of leaving, I still didn't like knowing that he could affect me so easily.

I looked at my hands, surprised to find them curled into tight fists. I unclenched them and shoved them in my jean pockets. I took a deep breath and spoke slowly, hoping that it would help to calm me. "Are, you feeling any better?" I asked tentatively.

"Not really, I just this day would end."

I hear you, I thought looking at him. "Maybe you should go lie down."

He agreed as he ran a hand through his dark messy hair. Reaching for his glasses he stood up and went into his bedroom. I resisted watching him go until I heard his door close. I sighed and ran a hand though my own hair.

I made gingerbread pancakes and cinnamon milk for an impromptu dinner. It was a silent affair except for the scraping and clinking of our eating utensils.

"Say Ron, I was wondering, could I ask you a question?" Harry asked midway through the meal.

"Was that it? Because it seems like a waste of a question," I replied glibly.

Harry forced a smiled. "No, that wasn't the question. I wanted to ask you, if, if something happened last night?"

I bit my fork. "What do you mean?"

"Well something strange happened when I went over to see her," Harry started. I noted how he wasn't able to say her name and prompted him to continue. "She greeted me nicely enough, we even kissed, but when our lips met…" he paused here and turned a deep red shade. I stilled the all too familiar nagging feeling in my stomach whenever Harry talked about kissing my sister.

"Go on," I managed to say.

"When our lips met, I got this image in my head. I don't know if it's real or not, but it was pretty vivid. I-I imagined it was you who was kissing me."

"No kidding?"

Harry nodded his head.

"How was I?"

Looking irritated Harry frowned. "Ron, quit playing around. I only told you because I want to know the truth…"

"Did something happen last night?" I quoted.

"Something did, didn't it?"

"Why do you say that?" I questioned, lifting my goblet of cinnamon milk to my lips.

"Because, you're stalling; if nothing had happened then you would have denied it a hundred times already, but you haven't done anything but joke around."

Busted. I put down my goblet and turned it slowly on the tablecloth. "Fine, we accidently kissed." I said bluntly.

Harry's eyes widened in shock, "We what? What happened?" he demanded.

I fidgeted for a while as I searched for the words. "It isn't a big deal, it happened by accident, so it doesn't even count."

"Ron…"

"I was putting you in bed and you kissed me." I blurted awkwardly.

"_I_ did," Harry blinked and looked at his empty plate thoughtfully.

"Yeah, but like I said, it doesn't even count. I mean you were pretty wasted last night. " I chuckled and ate the last bite of my pancakes. Harry looked mortified.

"Is that all?"

"Well you did say I tasted funny, but yeah, that's all." I looked at him strangely. "Why," I asked, arching an eyebrow.

He looked relieved and held up his hands defensively. "No reason, let's just forget about the whole thing. I'll do the dishes since you cooked." He replied, elegantly changing the subject. Obviously, I wouldn't be forgetting about our little kissing incident or Harry's reaction to it.

I nodded my head and backed away from the table; let him have his way for now, what harm would it do?

I would soon find out.

* * *

Finite.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I apologize for the extra, super long wait for this chapter. In gratitude for all of the readers that have been staying with this story. This chapter is extra, super long!

A/N2: According to the HP-lexicon, both Harry and Ron become Aurors not long after the Battle of Hogwarts and so they are here. Enjoy!

A/N3: I introduce a few new characters this chapter, but fear not they won't take up too much space and we'll get back to the Ron and Harry stuff soon!

Before Me.

I woke up cold and shaking. I shivered and held the quilt closer to me, berating myself for not having thought to grab an extra blanket from the linen closet before going to bed last night. Urgh, I hate mornings. Planting my feet on the floor I blindly moved them around, searching for my slippers. I found one under the bed and had to use my wad to summon the other one. I couldn't see my robe anywhere and figured I must have left it in the bathroom. I got out of bed and there. Frost framed the window above the toilet and I licked my fingertip to write brief messages to amuse myself like "Hello" and "Wash Me," before wiping them away with my warm palm.

Eventually, I made my way into the kitchen where Harry was browsing The Morning Prophet, a hot mug of freshly brewed coffee cupped in his hands.

"Morning," I dutifully greeted my house mate.

He looked up at me and smiled. "Good morning Ron. Sleep well?"

"Yeah, though I wouldn't mind going back to bed for a few more hours," I replied with a yawn. I poured myself a coffee and leaned against the counter.

Harry laughed, and it felt as though things were back to normal between us. I offered to make some eggs, but Harry declined, claiming he wasn't hungry. I made enough for two anyway, knowing that once the smell of food filled the room he would be hungry. True to form, when I placed a plate in front of him he dug in without complaint.

"Got any plans for the day?" he asked, buttering toast.

"Work mostly," I managed between mouthfuls of scrambled egg.

"On a Saturday?"

"Yeah, I thought I told you."

"Remind me?"

"I promised to help Fred and George out on weekends. Besides, it's their busiest day of the week and Fred's pretty useless when it comes to carrying stuff, being a portrait and all." I explained.

"Oh, right." Harry said, looking forlorn.

"You should stop by. I'm sure the twins would be more than happy to see you."

"Maybe," Harry replied noncommittally. I had the distinct impression that Harry wanted to say something more, but was unwilling to bring up the subject. We continued to eat in silence. I wanted to prompt him to speak his mind, but I was due to arrive at Number 93 soon, and I couldn't be late. No, really. I couldn't. The twins were brutal when it comes to being at work on time, unless the reason for your tardiness makes them laugh. My stories never make them laugh. I think it is because I am their brother they wanted me to set a better example for their other employees. Well, whatever their reasons, I knew that if I didn't leave soon I was going to be really late. I would have to deal with Harry later. I rinsed out my dishes and went into my bedroom to dress for the day. I had enough time to wash my face and brush my teeth before I hurried out of the door. I threw a few owl treats at a slumbering Pigwidgeon as I literally ran out of the flat.

The sky was white with a blanket a clouds. It looked like it was going to rain, but it was so cold that it may even snow, though it was too early in the season for it. I walked with my hands tucked in my armpits to keep them warm. Taking my usual commute to the Leaky Cauldron I was soon standing in front of the brick wall that concealed Diagon Alley. Halloween decorations dotted the Alley in preparation for the holiday. I walked down the Alley adoring the decorations and smiling at a group of young wizards and witches as they stared at the Quidditch gear on display. I was tempted to waltz over to see the newest gear myself, but the threat of whatever the twins would do to me for being late wasn't worth the sneak peak. Besides, I could always stop by on my way home.

Reluctantly, I removed my hands from the warm confines of my pits and waved greetings to those shopkeepers who recognized me as they opened their shops for business. I spotted Madame Malkin standing in front of her store trying to balance a tower of packages as she tried to unlock the door. I quickly crossed the street to give her a hand, taking the parcels from her. She thanked me and said that I should stop in later. I promised her I would. Mum's birthday was coming up; and I thought I'd pop in during lunch and look for a gift.

As I neared the store, I dug into my coat pocket to search for the keys to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, or We3, as it's affectionately called by locals. I tried to avoid eye contact with the flashy display that greeted me as I enter the store. We3 had been ready for Halloween since the beginning of September. The twins love Halloween and so do I. It was my favorite holiday. The fact that it also doubled as Mum's birthday made it that much better. Ever since the twins could walk they had schemed of ways to scare Mum on her birthday. It was done so often that it had sort of become a family tradition. It may not be the most traditional of ways to celebrate a birthday, but it sure was fun.

The front of the shop was empty as I entered. The shop was littered with portraits for Fred, squeezed in between shelves and displays. They were empty now. I expect Fred was harassing George upstairs in the flat or in the workshop. I folded my coat and stuffed it into one of the employee lockers, trading it for my uniform, which consisted of a green and orange checkered vest with matching cap. Tacky, I know, but that's what all employees have to wear. Securing the cap on my head, I sighed at the mess that greeted me as I walked around the store, making note of what items were running low. Sometimes George forgot to restock all the shelves. It looked like this was one of those times. After finishing my list I headed for the store room.

I was in the middle of restocking the shelves when I heard the sound the bell above the store entrance rang. Alice entered the store. "Good morning Ron," she greeted me warmly.

"Morning," I replied. I waited until she had put her coat away before asking her to give me a hand. No sooner had I gotten the words out then she agreed to help, already refilling the sugar quills. She even got the rest of the staff as the filed in the door to help and soon the whole staff (sans the owners) were stocking. It was near time to open the store when we'd finished. We barely had a moment to admire our work before it was destroyed by the maelstrom of customers. Oh, well all things aren't meant to last fprever.

A little after midday, Hermione stopped by the store."What brings you here?" I asked as we shared a hug. She pulled away and stared at me, looking incredulously.

"Don't tell me you've forgotten about our plans?" Hermione asked, wagging a finger at me.

"Uh, it's not that I forgot that we had plans, it's just that I forgot that we had plans today," I told her lamely.

She brushed off my explaination with a wave of her hand. "It doesn't matter. Can you step away for a bite to eat?"

I smiled and held up my hand. "Five minutes." I nodded, stripping off my vest. Soon I found myself once again walking the streets of Diagon Alley. Hermione chattered away, questioning me about which color my mum likes best, lavender or violet? Hell if I knew, they are looked the same to me.

"What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing," I waved off her concern, turning away from her. I heard her make an annoyed sound. I turned back around and placed an arm over her shoulders. "Let's eat. I'm starved."

"Fine," she agreed, exasperated. If we weren't in public she might have thrown her arms up to vent her frustration. I hugged her fully and walked to the nearest restaruant.

The meal we ordered was simple and delicious. "You need to eat more vegetables," Hermione chastised, eyeballing my steak and chips with distaste.

I blinked. "That's why I ordered the chips."

She scoffed and shook her head. "You're so predictable."

"What? I don't need your permission to eat whatever I want." I replied defensively, stuffing my mouth with wonderfully greasy fried chips.

"I didn't mean that in a bad way, Ron. Only that it's good to know that some things will never change." She smiled weakly as she dug into her Caesar salad. I stared at her for a moment, a warning bell going off in my head.

"I don't see why I should change. I'm bloody perfect the way I am," I joked, trying to work out what had prompted Hermione to look so sad.

"Well, of course you are," Hermione teased, latching onto the joke. "It's everyone else that needs to stop changing, moving forward, progressing to their full potential."

"Damn straight," I agreed, nodding my head. We laughed and finished our meal. I ordered several hot chocolates to got for the We3 staff before we left. I hoped that the hot sugary drink would help them deal with the customers.

It started snowing as Hermione walked with me back to the shop. Strong winds pushed against our backs as we tried to maintain our balance as we stumbled up the street. It got so bad that Hermione and I dashed over to the store front of TerrorTours where, amongst posters of vacation spots for the Bermuda Triangle, we decided it would be best if we went our separate ways. We exchanged kisses on the cheek and promised to see each other soon. Eventually I made my way back to the store, but with the tower of hot drinks I was carrying I had trouble opening the store door. Luckily, I didn't have to wait long until a patron opened the door for me as they were leaving with their purchase.

No sooner had I made it inside then I was ambushed by Alice. "Ron," she grabbed my arm and half dragged, half carried me to the store room out of earshot of the patrons. "And just where the Hell have you been? We've been here swamped and you just run off for an hour."

"Hey, I told you I was stepping out for lunch." I shot back. "Besides, I'm not that late and now you can take your break. I'll cover for you."

Alice brightened at the idea and after accepting her coco, left to take her break.

"Well, that could have been worse," I thought to myself as I pulled on my vest back on. It was the busiest time of the day and chaos reigned for the majority of it.

I loved it here. It was a great way to make extra money while I studied for the offical Auror exam. Plus, most of the customers were old school mates. I would chat as we walked around the glittering displays, inquiring after their lives and relive my school days. Once they made their purchases and went on their way, I'd move onto the next mate. Some days it would be so busy that I wouldn't have time to pine for Harry. I would be the first to admit that I was using my weekend job as an escape from my problems, but really who doesn't bury themselves in something in order not to deal with their issues?

Exactly; no one.

It wasn't until I walked passed the restaurant where I had lunch with Hermione on the way home that I remembered her strange comment about not changing. I made another mental note to ask about it the next time I saw her.

Harry wasn't in when I got home. I wasn't surprised, he usually spent his Saturdays off with Ginny. I walked through our flat and vaugely wondered if he was with her now. I paused in the kitchen doorway and forced myself to think of something else. It was as if I needed to physically stop in order to focus enough to put an end to that train of thought before it took me on a trip I didn't what to take.

Slightly upset with myself I threw my keys on the kitchen counter, and opened a cupboard to grab a bottle of whatever dark soda Harry bought. I took it over to the living room, where I kicked off my shoes and pulled out my wand to perform a freezing charm on it.

Unscrewing the bottle's cap I took a drink and closed my eyes, listening to the sounds of our owls rustling in their cages as the cold sugary drink made me feel better. I opened my eyes after a particularly loud hoot and looked up to the wall clock. There were still a few hours before night fell. Placing the soda on the coffee table I shifted my position on the couch, laying on my back, hoping to squeeze in a quick nap before I had to let the owls out to hunt.

I must have been more tired than I thought, since no sooner had I closed my eyes, than I was awoken two hours later by insistent loud hooting nearby. I jolted to my feet. I had slept longer than I wanted, but the extra time had refreshed me and I leapt over the couch with ease and stood in front of the two birdcages. Both birds growing louder in their excitment as I got closer to their cages.

"Good morning, Nora," I greeted Harry's fish owl. As I opened her cage door, she stepped out and hopped up to the top of her cage, spreading her wings as though she was stretching after a long nap, which I suppose she was, as far as owls go.

I smiled at Nora, she was a beautiful bird. Being a fish-owl she was one of the biggest owls in the world. All browns and grays with a patch of white on her neck. What I like most about her was her broad, ragged ear tuffs which looked like the ears of a rabbit. It's because of her ears that I secretly called her "Bunny," she didn't seem to mind. Her piercing yellow eyes closed as I softly stroked her snow white throat with the backs of my fingers. "You ready for breakfast, Bunny?" I asked.

I heard Pigwidgeon rattling around in hs cage, eager to be free for the evening. "Hold on, Pig. I'm coming." I moved away from Nora and opened my owl's cage door. Pig zoomed out and flew a lap around the apartment. I kept a sharp eye on him as I headed back to the kitchen.

Harry and I chose this apartment complex, because it bordered a park. We needed an area that had enough wild life where the owls wouldn't stand out and also have a sufficient food source. I unlocked the kitchen window's hatch and opened the window as far as it would go.

"All right, have at it," I moved out of the way so Nora and Pig could fly out.

It still amazed me how quiet owls are in flight. The only sound you hear is the air moving under their wings and that's only when they're directly above you.

After I released the birds I returned to the cupboard. "I think it's about time I hunted down my own meal," I mused, holding open the doors I stared at the pantry, comparing which meals would be easy to make verus how appealing that meal would be to eat. I settled on pasta with onions and bacon. It isn't a difficult reciepe and I'm always up for anything with bacon in it.

I gathered the ingredients and turned on the radio, as was my habit when cooking, before putting a pan on a burner. Carefully turning on the electrick stove I added some olive oil to the pan. A Quidditch match was on and I listened to the commentators describe plays as I cooked the bacon and minced the onions and tossed them into the pan. It wasn't long before the whole apartment smelled of bacon and onions.

I was so consumed with the sounds of the match and the progress of my dinner that I hadn't realize Harry had come home until I felt his arms encircle me from behind. Startled by the sudden embrace I yelled out and crushed the tomatoes I had in my hands. The red fruit wasn't the only things destoryed at Harry's hug. The surprise triggered my defensive magic though lucklily my aim was off by miles and instead of jinxing Harry my magic hit the raido. It went haywire as the magic interfered with its electronics and exploded in a little puff of smoke.

"Oops," I heard Harry giggled as he pulled away. I whipped around angry at my spoiled food, though seeing Harry looking so cheerful instantly put me in a forgiving mood. Okay, perhaps I felt a little vengeful, but throwing the remains of the tomatoes at his chest did make me feel loads better.

The shock on Harry's face as the juicy tomatoes stuck to his shirt in clumps before falling onto the floor had me doubled over in laugther.

"Serves you right for ruining my dinner." I managed, collecting my breath. I straightened up, unable to wipe away a grin. There was even tomato in his hair. Harry mirrored my smile but there was a glint in his eyes that was familiar to me, but not because it was one Harry used often. It was the look my brothers had just before they staged a prank. It wasn't hard to figure out what Harry was thinking, I acted quickly, automatically, placing my hands gently on Harry's elbows, serverely restricting his movements. Try throwing tomato at me now, I silently challenged.

As if he heard me, Harry grinned widened and he lunged forward, wrapping me in a gooey hug. I sucked in a breath as the cold mushy fruit oozed through my shirt. I felt him chuckling at my discomfort and I did the only thing I could in that type of situation, I returned the hug, interlocking my fingers on his back so he couldn't break free and rested my chin on the top of his head. I wanted to make sure he got as much of the tomato on him as possible, or at least as much as me.

It didn't occur to me that something was wrong until I heard Harry gasp and squirm uncomfortably in my arms, the way he tensed up at my embrace made me think his discomfort was from the tomato. "You okay?" I asked, loosening my grip.

He took a few steps back, his eyes slightly wider, like he wanted to tell me something without actually having to say it. "Yeah," he answered slowly, his gaze quickly drifted down to my mouth before going back to my eyes. "I'm fine."

Was he remembering the kiss we agreed to forgot happened? The thought made me press my lips together and my mouth watered suddenly. I swallowed, noting Harry watching my throat move as I did. His mouth twitched at the corners as he regarded me with a look that I considered one of interest, and perhaps, confusion? It was hard to tell while I tried not to gag on my own spit. "Good," I replied, clearing my throat with a cough. "Because you owe me dinner."

Harry refocused on my eyes and grinned, a much more relaxed and natural smiled. "Fine. We can go out and get something." He countered, his eyes bright and cheerful once more. "You can replace my radio on the way back."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I wanted to have this up before _Deathly Hallows, part 2_ premiered, but obviously that didn't happen. That's okay, that doesn't mean I can't post it anyway. As always, enjoy!

Before Me.

"The thing was ancient, and anyway it only carried three stations."

"It was a gift." Harry insisted, picking up the larger bits of the radio. He didn't have to say it, but we both knew Ginny had brought it for him as a house warming gift when we moved here.

"Well, now, it's a bunch of gifts." I joked, holding a bin liner open.

Harry laughed as he deposited the broken electronics inside and I knew he wasn't really as sorry to see the radio go as he was making out.

After a quick change of clothes Harry and I bundled ourselves against the biting weather and headed out. Harry carried the remains of the radio to dumpster outside while I locked the front door, and twisted the handle to make sure it was secured before pulling my gloves on and following Harry to the main door.

It had grown colder since I came home a few hours ago. I still couldn't believe it was only October and already we were experiencing such wintry weather.

I thought about hailing a cab, but almost immediately dismissed it. I was hesitant to spend the money and our destination was close enough that taking a brisk walk wouldn't be as much as a hassle than hailing a cab, giving directions and ultimately, my cheap ass just didn't want to spend the money.

We didn't speak as we walked through our neighborhood, trying to preserve our body heat. It didn't matter we both knew where we were headed; The Spotted Wolf, a small pub near our place. It was easily our favorite haunt, our home away from home. We had become semi-regulars rather quickly once we settled here after the war.

There wasn't much of a crowd when we came in, just a few regulars and pub staff, all Muggles. I frowned slightly at nothing in particular, it was unusual to see the Spotted Wolf so bare on a Saturday night, and I felt as though I was missing something.

I passed one of the many TVs strung in strategic places around the pub, there was a football match on, I was unfamiliar with the teams, but recognized the colors used to decorate the storefront windows in the nearby shops and assumed it was a local match. I suspected the local population would be preoccupied with watching the game before going out to drink in massive quantities to celebration, or to drown out the pains of a loss.

Harry and I proceeded toward our favorite table where Harry nodded at the bartender and held up two fingers, giving him the unspoken order for two pints of whatever was on tap.

We settled into our seats and waited for our server. Harry unzipped his coat, but made no move to take it off, while I hastily tugged mine off and hung it on the back of my chair. This was normal for us, I tended to run a bit hotter than Harry and the steep walk towards the Wolf had really warmed me up.

Our server, a dark blonde whose name I didn't know and whose age I couldn't guess came over with our drinks. I thanked her and asked to see a menu. She handed me one without looking at me. She seemed upset as she walked off, as if I had inconvenienced her by asking her to do her job. I quickly skimmed over the list of typical Pub food.

I must have made a face as I looked at the carte du jour because I heard Harry chuckle. My eyes flicked up to glance at him over the top of the menu.

"Does anything look good?" He asked, taking a draft of his pint.

Heat gathered in my neck and ears and spread down to settle in my stomach. _Stop it, Ron_. I scolded myself; _Harry is not flirting with you._ I force myself to return the look and smirked. I opened my mouth to retort when our server reappeared like, well like magic.

"Do you know what you want?"

I whipped my head around, startled by the question. "What?"

Harry raised his glass to hide his mouth as he chuckled.

"To eat," she reiterated.

"Oh, right," I cleared my throat and scanned the laminated menu. "Uh, I'll have an American-style hamburger and…" I paused, hearing Hermione's speech from earlier and passed on the twice fried chips and ordered a salad instead.

That earned me a look from Harry, who had a habit of ordering whatever I did when we ate out. I never asked him why he ordered the same thing, but had my suspicions it had something to do with his upbringing with the Durselys. I had a theory that he was taught he was making a fuss by ordering something he truly wanted. A wave of sympathy crashed over me as I watched my best friend order an American-style hamburger and a salad as well.

Our server, who still hadn't introduced herself, jotted down our food order, and disappeared, leaving Harry and I alone.

I knew what I had asked for was vastly different from what I had started preparing back at the flat and judging by the look Harry was giving me, he wanted an explanation.

"Had lunch with Hermione; saids I don't eat enough veg," I said answering his unspoken question.

"Hn, so that's where you were," Harry replied, though I noticed his eyes darken slightly and a small frown form in the corners of his mouth.

It was a look I hadn't seen since our fourth year at Hogwarts when I accused Harry of tricking the Goblet of Fire without telling me. He was unhappy with me, but there was something else that I couldn't figure out; something I couldn't see in the dark expression, _could it be jealously? No, surely not. But maybe…_

"What?" I asked, pulling myself away from my thoughts.

"I stopped by the store today like you wanted me to only you weren't there." Harry said, draining the rest of his beer. "George said you were out. I was going to wait, but it started to get crowded and I knew I'd get recognized sooner or later so I left."

"Oh, yeah? Sorry, nobody told me that you'd stopped by," I started, but Harry held up a hand and I fell silent.

Harry waved away my apology with a smile. "Don't worry about it; at least I got to see Fred and George."

"Fine then I won't," I said, rolling my eyes. Luckily, Harry had turned in his chair and waved his arm in the air trying to gain the bartender's attention, so he missed my sarcasm as he ordered another drink.

"So, what were you doing with 'Mione?" He asked, turning back to settle in his seat.

"We looked around for a gift for Mum's birthday." I answered quickly, feeling like I had to explain myself.

"Were you able to find anything for Molly?" Harry asked, that strange look returning to his eyes.

It was odd to hear my mother's first name coming out of Harry's mouth. I shook my head to clear it. "No, to be honest I wasn't in the shopping mood."

"You do seem a bit distracted recently."

My ears perked up. "I've been distracted?" I shot at him, raising my eyebrow.

Harry laughed. "Alright, fine. We've both been a little off, yeah?"

"It's not wholly unexpected, is it?" I asked, wanting my mouth to stop moving. "I mean with all that's happened…" I let my voice trail off meaningfully.

Harry stiffened and sucked in a breath, then forced himself to relax I could see it in the way his shoulders shagged and the faraway look that came over his face. "No, I guess not."

"Did you see her today?" I knew I didn't have to say Ginny's name in order for Harry to understand who I meant.

Harry's eyes slowly focused on me. He hesitated before answering. "Yes."

"Well, that's good right?"

"I guess." Harry frowned again, though it wasn't as dark as the one he'd given me moments before.

_What are you doing, Ron?_ I scolded myself. _Stop it; you're only going to make things worse_.

"So how are things, between the two of you, I mean?" I asked ignoring my own advice.

"I don't know." Harry admitted, tapping the side of his empty glass. He looked less inclined to talk about it then I did, but as his best friend it was my duty to nag him about it so it wouldn't gnaw at him like a parasite. "Fine, I guess."

We both sighed and looked away. Hermione is better suited to understanding these kinds of things, but that doesn't mean I couldn't try.

"At least you look better than you did yesterday." I observed giving him the brightest smile I could muster.

"Thanks," Harry said. He grinned so wide that his eyes closed. I flushed, he was giving me his polite smile, the smile he gave people when he was upset but didn't want people to know.

_Oh, man, you're in for it. You've really pissed him off now._

"What's wrong with me?" I mumbled into my glass.

Harry looked at me his expression smoothing out into a more natural grin. "Nothing a freshly tossed salad can't cure," he teased.

I looked at him shock written all over my face.

Harry nodded and gestured behind me. I turned and saw that our server was headed towards us with our meals balanced easily in her hands.

I turned back to look at my flat mate and just like that the tension between us broke as we started laughing.

"You're not seriously going to eat that, are you?" Harry asked as we walked home.

I held up the plastic bag in my fist. "Why not?"

"You're kidding right?"

"You know I don't like wasting food."

"Yeah, but day old salad, Ron?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Why, what's wrong with it?"

"You'll find out." Harry promised, pulling out a cigarette pack.

I grunted and tossed the bag into the nearest garbage bin.

"Happy?" I grumbled.

"Yes, and so are your guts."

Harry passed me a cigarette and we paused under a street lamp to light them. I waited until Harry lit his first then leant forward so he could light it for me.

"Cheap ass lighter," Harry slurred as he stroked his thumb over the striker wheel. The lighter refused to spark. Frustrated Harry threw the disposable lighter into the same bin as my salad.

"Hermione was always better with fire," I shrugged and sighed dramatically. "Can't be helped."

"What can't be helped?" Harry inquired, looking up at me with a soft smile.

"Don't move, Harry." I instructed. _I'm going to regret this tomorrow_, I promised myself as I placed my hands on the sides of his face.

"Ron-"

"Don't move," I repeated and held him steady as I leaned down to gently touch the ends of both fags together. I sucked in, pulling the fire of his cigarette until it caught onto mine. I felt heat gathering on my palms and chanced a look up from the two cigarettes to gaze at those brilliant green eyes of his. They were no longer dark, like in the pub, but bright and shining as though, as though they were made of glass. Ah, I suck at analogies; I tried not to smile too widely at the thought as I pulled away from him.

"Thanks mate," I said as casually as I could and straightened up. Harry's eyes followed mine as I stood to fully height. I took the cigarette out of my mouth and exhaled the smoke, basking in the familiar burn down my throat and lungs.

"Sure, no problem," Harry assured staring wide eyed at me. He swallowed visibly then turned away from me, and begin walking, his step growing quicker as he continued on home.

I put the cigarette back to my mouth as I watched my friend create distance between us. I knew it, I was going to regret doing that to Harry, but when Harry turned back to sneak a look at me I couldn't help but smile.

It was worth it.


End file.
